One Gamble Too Many
by MoreBonesPlz
Summary: Booth returns home from helping Cam and Arastoo in Iran only to find the last gamble he placed before his trip cost him more than just money when his bookie decided to drag Brennan into his debts.
1. Prologue

**A/N:** _Ahem. Pardon my French!_

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 **Disclaimer** : I own nothing _Bones_ related except my imagination.

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Prologue:

Jimmy Kosinski was pissed as he left the J. Edgar Hoover building, FBI headquarters in downtown Washington, D.C. Just who the fuck did Seeley Booth think he was, having Jimmy brought into the FBI for interrogation by some piss-ant little agent who tried to intimidate him and demand he drop a $30k debt? It's not his fault that Seeley Booth got in over his fucking head. He's just a humble business man and people who lose a bet have to pay up in order for him to pay what he owes to those who win. That's the simple math and Jimmy sure as shit didn't appreciate being yanked around by some Feeb who thought their holier-than-thou job entitled them to privileges the rest of the fucking population wasn't entitled to. Fucking asshole. Jimmy didn't need this shit. Putting the fucking law onto his ass was a god damned violation of the "gentlemen's agreement" between a bookie and his mark. As far as he was concerned, Agent Booth's little stunt at attempted intimidation just ran out the clock on Jimmy's good will. It was time to pay up now or pay the fucking consequences.


	2. Chapter 1

**A/N:** _This story is AU. My muse dragged me into this kicking and screaming. That's all I'll say for now._

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 **Disclaimer** : I own nothing _Bones_ related except my imagination.

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The case was solved and Booth, Cam, and Arastoo were on their way home. Brennan felt as though a huge burden had been lifted off her shoulders once she knew they were in the air, out of Iran, and would be delivered home safely later that night. She'd been terrified for Booth. She loved him so much and didn't want anything to happen to him, didn't know how she'd survive without him.

She didn't kid herself that they weren't in for a rough time going forward, however, especially the next few months. Booth was an addict. He had fallen off the wagon and was being dishonest with her. She fully intended to confront him immediately when he got home later that night about his gambling and his deceptions and she wasn't expecting it to be a pleasant conversation or a happy reunion. Not only did it go against her basic nature to leave a large issue like this unresolved, she knew that the longer she waited to address it, the worse it would be. She'd thoroughly researched addiction back when she first met Booth and was trying to understand him. Since then, she'd loosely kept tabs on new research and study results, understanding that being an addict is a lifelong condition and not something that ever truly goes away.

But, she also believed that they could get through anything if they stuck together and she fully intended to stand by her man. She could help him battle his addiction, but only if he was willing to take up the fight. She couldn't do it for him.

She intended to ask him point blank about his gambling. She'd thought about little else but the upcoming confrontation for the last few days, barely sleeping at night, and she hoped he'd come clean when asked outright. He knew how much honesty between them meant to her but part of the high of winning was that it made a person feel invincible, like they can get away with anything, including hiding their addiction. If he lied to her, which she recognized was a possibility . . . if he out-and-out lied right to her face, she was going to have to be tough and make sure he understood what he stood to lose. She really hoped it didn't come to that.

In the meantime, Brennan needed to go to the bank and pick up the money Booth owed Jimmy. She'd called the bank this morning, shuffling money around in her various accounts and arranging for the cash to be available for her pick-up just after lunchtime. Aubrey had offered to deliver the money to Jimmy for her and for once, she'd opted to accept someone's help without argument. She needed to make sure that she and the baby stayed safe and she didn't trust Jimmy. Visiting him in his lair while carrying $30,000 in cash didn't seem like the most prudent way to ensure a safe outcome so she and Aubrey had agreed to meet at the diner around 4:00 that afternoon so she could give him the payoff to deliver. The restaurant shouldn't be very crowded at that time of day and it's not like she could waltz into the FBI headquarters with that kind of cash without raising some eyebrows.

Poking her head briefly into Angela's office, Brennan gave her friend a sanitized version of her plans. "Hey Angela. I'm going to step out for a late lunch and to run a few errands in preparation for Booth's return home tonight. Since Cam's out, I just wanted to let someone know that I probably won't be back for the rest of the afternoon."

"Okay Sweetie. I'll try to maintain control of this unruly group of mad scientists while you're out. I hope you're shopping for something naughty to welcome Booth home with." Angela gave Brennan a devilish smile and wagged her eyebrows, not really all that surprised when Brennan just frowned and walked away.

As Brennan approached her car in the garage, she was brought up short when a man suddenly stepped out from between two cars and hailed her attention, halting her in her tracks. "Mrs. Booth."

"Mr. Kosinski," she answered cautiously, recognizing his all-American clean cut visage and tall lanky build from his brief, albeit unpleasant, visit to her home a couple days previously.

"Your husband still hasn't followed through on his obligations and I'm afraid the time for leniency is up."

Brennan could feel the release of chemicals into her system associated with fear. Her heart rate accelerated, her hands became clammy, her breathing shallower than normal. The cold, hard and unforgiving stare he gave her let her know this wasn't just a social call and he wasn't interested in being friendly. Trying to maintain her outward calm, she explained he'd get his money. "I was just heading over to the bank to pick up the money owed to you. You'll have it in your hands before close of business today."

Jimmy gave her a smile that sent a chill up her spine and shook his head. "Sorry Mrs. Booth. That's not good enough anymore. See, it sets a bad example, a bad precedent if you will, when a man is allowed to ignore his obligations for an extended time period without consequences. Since Seeley has been in hiding somewhere the last few days, it appears those consequences are going to have to be borne by you, but I believe he'll still learn the lesson."

Brennan debated briefly whether she should tell Jimmy that Booth was out of the country on travel and that's why he'd been delinquent in settling up, but discarded the idea, unsure whether knowing Booth was unreachable would make Jimmy more or less aggressive.

She felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end when Brennan saw Jimmy's eye's flicker over her shoulder. Taking a quick glance behind her, she saw two very large, heavily muscled and unsmiling men flanking her. Her fight or flight instincts were screaming at her, but she knew there was nothing she could do right now but stall for time. She had to keep her baby safe and neither attacking these men nor running away would have that result. For now, she was at their mercy.

"What is it you want from me, Mr. Kosinski?"

Lips curled up in an unpleasant sneer, he instructed her "I need you to come with me, Mrs. Booth."

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 **A/N:** _My muse appears to have A.D.D. these days and can't settle on a single story, but I'm not abandoning any of them. Interested in more of this one?_


	3. Chapter 2

**A/N:** _Thanks for the amazing support of this story. Hope it lives up to expectations._

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 **Disclaimer** : I own nothing _Bones_ related except my imagination.

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Agent James Aubrey arrived at the Royal Diner almost a quarter of an hour earlier than he was scheduled to meet with Brennan for their money transfer and decided he might as well indulge in a small mid-day snack while he waited. He flagged down Joanne, the waitress working the afternoon shift, and ordered a cheeseburger – everything on it – and a side of French fries. He briefly considered trying to order something for Brennan as well, but decided to hold off as she'd been eating some pretty bizarre food combinations lately and Aubrey wasn't sure what she'd be craving today. He was actually kind of jealous of what she could get away with eating these days in the guise of pregnancy hankerings, Aubrey acknowledged to himself.

Since the diner wasn't very crowded, Frankie, the short-order chef, had Aubrey's burger done lickity-split and it was still barely 4:00 when Joanne plopped down the food in front of him. It wasn't until he was licking the grease off his fingers, finished with his burger, that Aubrey started to question whether or not Brennan's tardiness was significant. She was generally quite punctual so Aubrey dialed her cell phone to check up on her and make sure she didn't get caught up in some paperwork issue at the bank. Her phone rang several times before he was dumped into voicemail.

" _Hey, Dr. Brennan. It's James Aubrey here. Just touching base to see if you're on your way to the diner. Give me a call if the plans have changed. Thanks. Bye."_

Aubrey gave her until 4:30, then tried her cell again and was dumped into voicemail again. Not wanting to overreact and recalling that Booth had complained any number of times about Dr. Brennan's propensity to lose track of time while working, Aubrey called her office phone number but was shuttled into voicemail there too. Next, he called Angela.

"Hello. This is Angela."

"Hey Angela. It's Aubrey here."

"Aubrey! I wasn't expecting your call. Uuugh, wait, don't tell me, they found another body and need our help. I am so not ready to be the main point of contact for some disgusting set of body parts."

"No, no. I, ah, I was just calling to see if you knew where Dr. Brennan was. I was expecting her to come by and drop something off for me, but I've not seen her yet and she didn't pick up her cell when I called. I was wondering if, you know, she might be entombed in the bowels of the Jeffersonian somewhere that doesn't have cell reception." Aubrey didn't know what, if anything, Dr. Brennan had shared with Angela about the current situation with Booth. He knew the two women were tight and that Angela was Mrs. B's usual confidant for her troubles, but he was under the impression that Dr. Brennan had kept this gambling issue a secret so far. It wasn't his story to tell and he didn't want to reveal his concerns unless he had to.

"Sorry, Sweetie. Bren left a couple hours ago to run some errands before Booth gets home tonight and she said she wasn't expecting to be back today. Was it something important? You need me to get one of the interns to try and locate another copy of a report that they can print out and send over"

"No, thanks. It wasn't for work. It was something related to a personal favor. I can't really get into the details right now."

"Oh, well, okay. I wouldn't worry too much. If Bren said she'd do you a favor, she'll follow through. You can count on that. If I see her though, I'll let her know you were looking for her."

Aubrey didn't correct her assumption that Dr. Brennan was doing him a favor in lieu of the other way around. "Yeah. Thanks Angela. See ya."

Aubrey hung up the phone and felt the burger he'd just finished eating sitting heavy in his stomach. He hoped he was totally off base, but his gut was telling him something was wrong and he needed to locate Dr. Brennan. This whole situation with Jimmy Kosinski plain stank and Aubrey didn't like that it was starting to look like Dr. Brennan and $30,000 may have gone missing. He tried calling Dr. Brennan's cell again, to no avail.

Drumming his fingers on the table and staring aimlessly out the window, Aubrey debated what to do next. If he rallied the troops in an all-out search for Dr. Brennan and it turned out she was fine, just unable to answer the phone briefly, then he would have blown open the secret of Booth's gambling problem unnecessarily and the fall out for Booth could be disastrous. Booth could lose his security clearances. He could lose his job at the FBI and any chance for another job in a law enforcement or another security type industry. Aubrey could lose the trust and friendship of a man whom he admired and respected and was beginning to feel a genuine kinship with.

On the other hand, if Aubrey did nothing and something were to happen to Dr. Brennan or her baby, he could kiss his ass goodbye. Never mind the fact that he'd never forgive himself for letting anything happen to her while he sat back and waited, Booth would never trust him or turn to him again for anything. Booth's career issues would be irrelevant because Booth would probably completely fall apart. That man carried guilt to a new level and if something happened to Dr. Brennan and the baby as a result of Booth's gambling issues, Aubrey didn't want to imagine the impact it would have on Booth.

All he could conclude for sure was that doing nothing wasn't an option but it was premature to rally the troops. Standing up and throwing some bills on the table to cover the costs of his snack, Aubrey decided he needed to do a little more sleuthing to try and locate Dr. Brennan and the best place for him to try next was back at the FBI offices.

When Aubrey got back to the Hoover building, the first thing he did was to put a trace on Dr. Brennan's cell phone and try to determine its location. With minimal explanation, he was able to convince one of the FBI computer techs to program her number into their search software and then he called her number again to generate a signal. Surprisingly, the signal came back indicating that she was at the Jeffersonian and Aubrey breathed a sigh of relief. Aubrey thanked the tech, deciding to head over to the lab and chat with her to find out what was going on.

Aubrey entered the lab to find only a skeleton crew still hanging around. Checking the time, he noted it was a little after 6:00 now so a number of the regular staff had already left for the day. A quick glance towards Dr. Brennan's office was all it took to see that her lights were out and she wasn't there. Aubrey's sense of foreboding started to return and he headed towards her office to see if she had left her phone behind when she went out. A quick search of her office turned up nothing. Aubrey wandered over to the exam rooms, down into limbo, and anywhere else he could think of where she might be holed up, but couldn't locate her anywhere.

Running out of ideas, he wandered down into the parking garage beneath the building to where she had a reserved parking spot – a perk afforded only to the Jeffersonian 'elite.' As soon as he stepped out of the stairwell into the parking deck, a chill ran up his spine and his gut clenched into a knot. He could see her car still parked in its usual spot. Aubrey un-holstered his gun and approached the car cautiously, intuition telling him that finding her car here was not necessarily a good thing under the current circumstances.

Scanning the area around the vehicle as he approached, Aubrey didn't see any signs of a struggle. He circled the car, looking in the windows. Nothing looked unusual but at the sight of the car seat and a couple kids toys in the back of the car, Aubrey thought of Christine for the first time that afternoon. Damn. If Dr. Brennan _was_ missing and Booth was out of town, where the hell was Christine? Who had her? He'd never given much thought to the intricacies of daycare protocol, but assumed they'd be closed by this time of night. Refocusing on the task at hand, Aubrey added finding the answer to the question of Christine's whereabouts to the growing list of things on his 'to do' list and continued around to the back of the car.

Taking his handkerchief out of his pocket, Aubrey covered his fingers then gingerly reached for the button on the trunk of the car to open the hatch, hoping like hell it wasn't rigged to explode. At the pop of the trunk, Aubrey leaped backwards. He hadn't really expected it to be unlocked. Looking inside, he saw the messenger bag that Dr. Brennan carried with her to and from work every day laying right in the center of the trunk with a non-descript, three inch square, yellow post-it note on top.

The note simply read "30,000."

To a casual observer, there was nothing overtly threatening about the note. But, to Aubrey's way of thinking, it clearly indicated _I've taken Dr. Brennan and you won't see her again until I get the $30,000 you owe me, if then_.

Aubrey put his gun away and pulled out a pen, using the tip of it to prod open the top of Dr. Brennan's bag and peek inside. Sure enough, her cell phone was right there. He was now convinced that she'd been nabbed by Jimmy Kosinski and his cohorts, but knew he didn't have enough evidence yet to justify an arrest warrant, a search warrant, or even to officially open a case. Looking around the garage, Aubrey figured they'd taken Dr. Brennan, but left her bag and phone in the car knowing that once people started to search for her, the phone would draw the investigation to her car and the note inside.

He considered taking her phone with him, but decided he needed to leave any evidence as undisturbed as possible in the event that things went bad going forward and he simply closed the trunk of the car, leaving the messenger bag and note just as he'd found them.

Aubrey noted a security camera near the stairwell and another further down the way, near the garage exit, but nothing that provided coverage for the immediate area around Dr. Brennan's car, therefore, the footage probably wouldn't reveal a whole lot of information and could wait a little longer to be pulled.

He needed to get back to his office and start digging deeper on Kosinski. As a junior field agent, he was pretty limited on the FBI resources he could commandeer for a task that was not an official case but he could certainly dedicate his own time and skill to the effort. As soon as he could get the basic background on Kosinski organized, he'd call Angela and get her digging too, never doubting that she'd also commit her full effort. At this point, Booth would be home in just a few hours and Aubrey figured he would avoid making any decisions which could jeopardize Booth's future within the FBI until Booth was back unless he found something specific that indicated he needed to act swiftly.


	4. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer** : I own nothing _Bones_ related except my imagination.

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Max Keenan sat on the old battered but comfortable sofa in his living room, drinking a warm cup of mint tea spiked with a little hot butter rum, and watched his grand-daughter playing happily with her dolls at his feet. Tempe would probably kill him if she knew that he'd taken Christine to McDonald's for dinner tonight – chicken nuggets and fries in a Happy Meal. But he'd needed a way to distract the little girl. She'd been full of questions he couldn't answer – where was her mom? Why were they late picking her up from daycare? When could she see her daddy?

Max had been puttering around in the garden in his back yard earlier when he'd gotten an unexpected phone call. He liked to spend time outside in the yard in the early evening when the sun was lower on the horizon and the peak heat of the day had passed. Setting aside his pruning shears, he'd hustled in to his kitchen knowing very few people had his home phone number and hoping it wasn't a telemarketer that had somehow found him.

"Hello."

"Hello. Mr. Keenan? This is Marcy from the Jeffersonian daycare."

"Oh. Hey Marcy. What's up?" Max was surprised to be getting a call from the cute, bubbly young woman that worked with the children in Christine's age group.

"Um, well, we have Christine here still and the daycare officially closes in about 10 minutes. Per our policy, we're supposed to contact the parents of any children that are still here within 15 minutes of closing to ensure the parents are on their way. We, uh, we've tried Christine's mom and her dad and we can't reach either of them. You're listed as the uh, the third emergency contact. Can you come and collect Christine? If not, then when I hang up with you, I'll have to call the Department of Family Services to come take custody of her until her parents can be located."

Max didn't hesitate. "No, that won't be necessary. I'll be there in less than 20 minutes."

Max knew why Booth couldn't be reached – he was roughly 40,000 feet in the air, on his way home from his rescue mission to Iran. But where was Tempe?

Quickly washing his hands then grabbing his car keys and wallet, he rushed out the door to go rescue his little princess.

While driving to the Jeffersonian, Max tried to recall whether Tempe had asked him to pick up Christine tonight like she occasionally asked him to do but he kept coming up blank. God only knows what she'd do or say to him when she found out he forgot, concerned it would set the fragile trust she had in him back again. The last thing Tempe needed right now when she was about to confront Booth about a major problem that was affecting her trust in him was to be worried about whether or not she could trust her dad too. Tempe and Christine had been staying with him for the last few days, ever since Booth's bookie had made a surprise visit to her home and issued subtle threats towards Tempe and her children.

It wasn't until Max and Christine were back at Max's house, fast food dinner in hand, that Max started to seriously question Tempe's whereabouts and to wonder if everything was okay. He'd gone back over the last 24 hours a dozen times in his mind now and couldn't recall her ever mentioning that she had plans which would keep her away from home, or Christine, for the evening. Being the suspicious old dog that he was, he was starting to fear that maybe something had happened related to this bookie guy.

Max had offered to deliver the payoff money for Tempe when she let him know she intended to pay Booth's debt, but she said she had already made arrangements for a friend of theirs that worked for the FBI to handle it that afternoon. Now Max was concerned something had gone wrong and he couldn't remember the name of their friend. With a deep sigh, he pushed himself off the couch and headed for the kitchen. There was really only one thing to do he thought as he reached for his phone.

"Hello. This is Angela."

"Hey Angel! It's Max Keenan, Tempe's dad."

"Max?" Angela was surprised. "Oh God. Is everything okay? Did something happen to Brennan?" She'd never received a call from Max Keenan before and was a little surprised to learn he had her phone number.

"I imagine everything's just fine, but, uh, I can't seem to get ahold of Tempe and wondered if you knew where she was this evening. Did she mention any special plans to you?"

There was an extended pause on the other end of the line and Angela was slower to respond than Max anticipated. "Okay, just what the hell is going on with Brennan this time?"

"What do you mean?"

"You're the second person to call me in the last couple hours looking for Brennan and I think there's something more going on here than I'm being told."

"Oh, well. That's what I'm trying to find out. Who was the other person that called looking for her?"

"Booth's protégé, Agent Aubrey."

Damn. Max recognized that as the name of the friend that was supposed to deliver the money for Tempe. If he was calling around looking for her too, that couldn't be a good sign. "I need Aubrey's phone number. Can you give it to me?"

Angela gave him the number. "Now tell me, what's really going on Max?"

"I'm not sure yet Angel. Hopefully nothing, but I've got to speak to this Aubrey fellow. Thanks for your help. Bye."

Max hung up the phone before she could start pushing him for answers he wasn't able to provide.

Max sighed again and rubbed his temples where he could feel the early signs of a headache coming on. His daughter expected him to toe the line and stay on the right side of the law these days he marveled, but it wasn't easy when she kept getting herself into situations where his past connections were beneficial for obtaining critical information to help her out. Max decided it was time to make some calls and cash in on a couple favors folks owed him, then he'd call this Aubrey fellow. First though, he needed to check on Christine and make sure she was still playing happily.

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When Agent Aubrey got to his desk after leaving the lab, the first thing he did was track down the manager for the Jeffersonian daycare who told him that Christine had been picked up by her grandfather, Max Keenan. That was one less thing for Aubrey to be worried about.

The next set of calls he made didn't go nearly as smoothly. He wanted to confirm whether or not Dr. Brennan had actually picked up the $30,000 from the bank that afternoon as intended. Because she was taken from the Jeffersonian garage and they left a note reflecting the amount of the loan, Aubrey suspected she was grabbed before she had made it to the bank, but needed confirmation in order to accurately establish where she was last seen and what time she disappeared. Right now, he didn't know if she'd been snatched leaving the Jeffersonian, or returning.

Aubrey's gut instincts told him that the odds of her being seriously harmed were less if she was taken before Jimmy got his money as that meant they considered her their bargaining chip. Once Jimmy had his money, his use for Dr. Brennan would be significantly diminished. Also, there was no logical reason for Jimmy and his goons to kidnap Brennan if they already got their money. Therefore, if she had already picked up the money from the bank, it could indicate her disappearance was not related to Booth's gambling issues, but something else all together.

Unfortunately in this case, bank personnel were not generally very forthcoming about other people's finances and he kept running into resistance and an unwillingness to disclose the information he was requesting. If this were an official case, he'd be able to get a judge to order the release of the information he wanted, but he was still trying to conduct his investigation on the sly for now and he was getting stonewalled by the folks at the bank.

Aubrey was getting desperate. Booth would be home soon and he didn't have hardly any real information to share with him. He was just about to break down and call Caroline Julian when his phone started to ring, the number on the display screen simply indicating it was an unknown caller.

He quickly answered on the off chance it was Dr. Brennan trying to reach him. "Agent Aubrey here."

"Aubrey, huh? This is Max Keenan, Temperance Brennan's dad. Tempe told me you were going to help her with a little issue she's been dealing with the last few days this afternoon. I've not heard from her so I was hoping you could tell me how everything went."

"Yeah, about that. Things didn't go exactly as planned. Dr. Brennan never showed up to our scheduled rendezvous at the diner this afternoon and I haven't been able to reach her since."

"You suspect this Jimmy guy?"

"Yeah, I do, but I've no proof. No evidence that I can use to get a warrant. Her phone was left in the trunk of her car at the lab with a note that said '30,000'. I left it there for now."

"Damn. I was afraid you'd say something like that. Listen, I called some . . . associates that I know. Men that I go back a ways with, and I did a little gentle probing about this Jimmy guy. He has a reputation for being a jackass and a real ball-buster. He won't hesitate to rough someone up when he wants to make a point, maybe break a few bones, but the guys I spoke with don't have him pegged as a killer. It's not much, but if he does have my baby girl, then most likely she's still alive at least."

"Yeah. That sounds pretty consistent with the jacket the FBI has on him too. He's got a rap sheet with a handful of assault charges and a few financial fraud charges, but nothing that indicates he's ever killed anyone before or been suspected of being involved in a murder. So, either he has limits as to what he'll do, or he's really good and hiding his dark side."

"What can I do to help?" Max was pretty limited in what he could offer since he had to stay home with Christine, but if there was anything, anything at all, that he could do to help, he wanted Aubrey to know he was willing.

"I'm not sure. Booth, Cam, and Arastoo should be landing in about an hour and I don't really have much concrete to tell him. I can't even verify whether or not Dr. Brennan actually picked up the payoff money from the bank as they've been giving me the run-around all night." Aubrey's frustration clearly evident in his voice. "I've accomplished about all I can here without opening an official case file, which I'm not ready to do yet."

Max thought about things for a moment before offering his suggestion. "Tell you what, why don't you swing by my place and pick up a key to Booth and Tempe's house so you can wait for Booth there. He needs to know what's happening as soon as he gets home. Meanwhile, I'll find out what happened at the bank today."

"Oh. You know Dr. Brennan's bank account information?"

"No. But I know banks," was Max's response. He certainly wasn't about to get into the details with an agent of the FBI and remind him that he'd made a career out of robbing banks in his younger days. Sure, the technology had changed, but, as Max said, he knew banks. Inside and out. Literally. Even after all this time.

They hung up the phone and for the first time in the last few hours, Aubrey felt like things were starting to move in the right direction. Just having a plan for the next hour helped restore his natural optimism and elevated his mood.

Pulling together the file of information he'd gathered so far on Mr. James Kosinski, he grabbed his keys and headed out the door to meet Max Keenan face-to-face for the first time. If he was being honest, he was both a little terrified and a little awed at the prospect. He'd heard stories and rumors about Max ever since he showed up in the DC field office, some of which were downright scary.

Luckily for Aubrey, his meeting with Max went smoothly. Aubrey decided not to ask questions when Max confirmed for him that Dr. Brennan had not made it to the bank that afternoon and all her money was still in her accounts. It was probably best he didn't really know how Max came by the information. With a promise to keep each other informed of any new information either man discovered, they shook hands and Aubrey left to go wait for Booth's return at the Booth-Brennan residence.

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 **A/N:** _Still got you hooked?_


	5. Chapter 4

**A/N:** _Thank you all for the continued interest in my story and especially to those who consistently share their thoughts or impressions. While I haven't specifically stated it previously, this story picks up near the end of episode 10x19 and assumes the reader is familiar with the show through that point._

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 **Disclaimer** : I own nothing _Bones_ related except my imagination.

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Booth exited the airplane, so glad to finally be back in the good ol' U. S. of A that he felt his chest swell with pride for his country as he entered the airline terminal from the plane jetway. Being surrounded by the intolerance of a different culture once again made him appreciate the freedoms of his homeland. He swore over five years ago when he got released from his duties in Afghanistan that he was never going back to the mid-East again if he had any choice in the matter, yet somehow he'd landed back there once more. He was relieved that everything had worked out satisfactorily with Cam and Arastoo but happy to finally be back in Washington DC.

Now, he just wanted to go home and spend the night with his arms wrapped around his wonderful wife so he bid his traveling companions farewell and hailed a taxi cab to take him home. As the cabbie navigated the streets leading to his house, he thought about some of the many things he loved about Bones that wouldn't be tolerated by Iranian culture if she'd been born there instead of the USA – her superior intelligence, her blunt - often indelicate - manner of speech, her need to pursue the truth and justice even if it occasionally clashed with the laws of society just to name a few of them. She wouldn't have been able to become the woman she is and the world would've been a poorer place because of it.

Booth had missed Bones tremendously while away and couldn't wait to get her naked in their bed. He wanted to worship her body with kisses from her head to her toes. He let himself slip into a short fantasy and imagined her lying on her back, unclothed and surrounded by pillows with her arms raised above her head while he gently caressed her swollen tummy, exploring all sides with both his hands and his lips. He wasn't thinking about sex. He was thinking about love and showing her just what she meant to him.

As the cab pulled into his driveway, he thought he could see Bone's silhouette peeking out the window as though she was as eager for his return as he was. Booth tossed a few bills at the cab driver, grabbed his travel bag, and headed for his front door.

However, when he entered the house, it was James Aubrey he found standing by the window, looking tired and uncomfortable, not Bones.

"Hey Aubrey," Booth greeted him with a smile, the sight of the agent not what he had been expecting, but not disturbing enough to diminish his good mood.

"Evening Booth," Aubrey responded with a tip of his chin, his greeting not quite as cheerful as Booth's.

Looking around the room for his wife, Booth was curious about Aubrey's presence. "What are you doing here so late? Bones need helping out with something?"

"In a manner of speaking, I suppose you could say that."

Something about Aubrey's demeanor registered in Booth's mind and a feeling of trepidation started to come over him. Booth eyed Aubrey suspiciously. "Where is Bones anyway?" he asked before raising his voice and hollering "Bones? I'm home."

Aubrey had been playing out this scene in his mind for the last hour as he waited for Booth to come home, trying to find the best way to explain the situation, but still found it difficult to speak the words he needed to say. "She's not here Agent Booth."

Booth's concerned gaze locked in on Aubrey as he fired off a series of questions rapidly, trying to figure out exactly what was going on. "Not here? What do you mean? Is Bones okay? Did something happen with the baby? Is she at the hospital?"

"No. She's missing."

" _Missing?_ " Booth just stared at Aubrey for a moment not fully comprehending what he meant. "What the hell does that mean? _Missing_. And where's Christine?"

"Christine's safe with Dr. Brennan's father, Max, but no one has seen or heard from Dr. Brennan since shortly after lunchtime today. Her car is still at the Jeffersonian, but she's not." Aubrey was trying to remain professional and report what he knew in a calm and steady manner, but it was not easy staying emotionally detached. He was very fond of Dr. Brennan. They had developed a certain rapport almost immediately after they met and she'd become one of his favorite people.

Booth's mind felt like it was bogged down in a quagmire. This whole conversation seemed surreal to him and he was struggling to come to terms with what he was hearing. _Bones was missing?_ Booth felt lightheaded and detached from his surroundings, like he was watching this nightmare unfold from some remote location. _Bones was missing._ As was often the case when his emotions became overwhelming for him, Booth fell back on anger and aggression, two standards that had carried him through many a tough situation in the past. "Just what the hell's been going on while I was gone? Is there a new case she's involved in? Do you have any clues or suspicions about what may have happened to her?"

"It's not related to a case, no. But yes, I do have a theory about what happened to her. No proof, but I'm pretty sure she was kidnapped earlier today by someone you know."

Losing patience with the verbal dance and just wanting answers, Booth snapped at Aubrey. "Well? Who do you think it is?"

Putting his hands on his hips and looking Booth directly in the eye, Aubrey answered. "Jimmy Kosinski."

Booth reacted as though he'd been delivered an actual physical blow. Aubrey saw Booth's eyes widen as a look of comingled fear and surprise flashed across his face. His head snapped up a notch on his neck and he staggered backwards, a sudden sucking inhale of air in shocked response before all the breath whooshed from his lungs as he instinctively raised his hands to his chest as thought to protect his heart. "J-Ji . . .Jimmy?"

As the implication of what that meant registered in his mind, Booth's legs gave out and he fell to his knees, a look of despair on his face that seemed to plead with Aubrey to tell him this wasn't really happening. All Booth could think right at that moment was that the two separate worlds he had been working so hard on keeping apart had collided head-on while he was in Iran and his unsuspecting wife had somehow been caught up in the carnage of that collision.

Aubrey hurt for Booth, but knew that this wasn't the time to go easy on him. Booth needed to know the score, straight up. "Yes, Jimmy. He showed up here a few days ago and told Dr. Brennan that you owed him $30,000 as part of a gambling debt." Booth didn't deny it, so Aubrey continued. "He made threats towards your wife, your very pregnant wife I'll add, and towards your daughter."

'What kind of threats?" Booth croaked out, his voice barely above a whisper as his stomach clenched in knots over what he was hearing.

"I don't know the specifics. Dr. Brennan didn't say. But it was enough to scare her into packing up Christine and spending the last few nights at her father's house instead of here. She also made arrangements to pay off your debt, but disappeared before she could follow through."

 _Oh God, Bones knew. Bones knew it all . . . Everything. She knew he was gambling again. She knew he'd gotten in too deep. She knew he had been deceiving her. She knew he wasn't as strong, or as good, as he pretended to be. She'd known it all for days now . . . and now, now Bones and their unborn baby were in harms way._ Booth lurched to his feet and ran to the kitchen where he promptly vomited the meager contents of his stomach in the sink, the realization that he'd put her and Christine in danger and the guilt over his betrayal and deceptions making him nauseous. _It was his fault. If anything happened to her, to them, it would be his fault._

After turning on the faucet, rinsing out the sink, and running the garbage disposal, Booth braced his arms along the sides of the sink and hung his head dejectedly. "Was she very mad?" _Will she ever forgive me?_

"Well, you know Dr. Brennan. She can keep her feelings pretty well hidden and she didn't exactly confide in me with all the girly details. But, if I had to guess, I'd say yeah, she's definitely dealing with some anger. And fear, disappointment . . . and heartbreak too."

Booth closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "I made a mistake. I know that. I made a mistake and now, I've gotta fix it." _Please God_ , he prayed, _please watch over her and I'll do whatever it takes to fix this and make it right. Please keep Bones and our baby safe and give me a chance to make things right again_.

"I'm gonna fix it," Booth vowed emphatically to Aubrey, to himself, to God, and to the universe.

* * *

Booth entered the bar a little after midnight. The temptation to stop and watch the action on the three dozen or so TV screens mounted all over the room, each showing highlights from different sporting events that had happened throughout the day, nearly overwhelming him and distracting him from his purpose. He scanned the room, ignoring the pull of the pool tables at the far end and looking for Jimmy. This was where Jimmy could be found most evenings, settling up with those who owed him and those he owed. It was late, but not by Jimmy's standards.

When Booth finally spotted Jimmy at a table towards the back corner, sitting there casually straddling a table chair that he'd flipped backwards and laughing with his companion, Booth snapped. All the pain, fear, and guilt he'd been feeling since he got home earlier that evening and discovered what had happened to his wife coalescing into a blinding rage directed at the man who'd upset the balance of his carefully structured illusions.

Booth couldn't even recall the walk from the doorway to where Jimmy sat. Suddenly, Booth was just there, grabbing Jimmy by his shirt collar with both hands and hauling him out of his chair, slamming his back roughly against the nearby wall. Booth shoved his face right into Jimmy's. "Where is she? Where's my wife?" he growled angrily, pulling Jimmy forward slightly before slamming him back into the wall again.

Jimmy hadn't noticed Booth enter the bar and was taken by surprise, but that didn't mean he hadn't been expecting something like this or that he wasn't prepared for it. In an instant, the same two muscle bound goons that had accompanied him when he'd gone to collect Booth's wife earlier that afternoon were there behind Booth, flanking him. Jimmy just smiled condescendingly at Booth. "Well, Seeley. What a pleasure to see you out of hiding. Did you stop by to deliver the money you owe me?"

Booth was still staring at Jimmy through a red haze, oblivious to what was happening around him. "Don't _fuck_ with me Kosinski. I want my wife back and I want her NOW!"

Jimmy shook his head from side to side the same way a parent might when expressing disappointment in a child. "Seeley, Seeley, Seeley. I'm gonna take that as a no."

With that, Jimmy gave a brief nod to his hired muscle and they stepped forward, each grabbing one of Booth's arms off Jimmy and forcefully dragging them behind Booth's back none to gently. Booth kept his eyes locked on Jimmy, refusing to show any sign of backing down, but in the depths of his mind, he realized the scale had tipped and Jimmy was in the position of power right now. "She's not part of this Kosinski. I want her back."

Now it was Jimmy's turn to lean forward into Booth's face, his cold eyes just centimeters from Booth's, his voice hard and unrelenting. "You listen to me now, Seeley Booth. You want your wife back, you get me my money. You knew my rules going in. You get three days max to make good on a bet or it's an extra grand a day. It's been seven days now so you're currently at $34,000. By the time the banks open in a few hours, it'll be $35,000. You want your wife back, you pay me the fucking money. Until then, she's keeping me company so I know I've got your attention."

Booth didn't flinch, despite the pain in his shoulders from the wrenching of his arms or the fear that was pulsing through his veins. "I swear, if you hurt her . . . if you so much as broke one of her fingernails, you'll be sorry. I will kill you if she's harmed in anyway."

Jimmy laughed, but there was no mirth in it, just a mocking derisiveness and he responded to Booth with a taunting sneer. "You know, she told me she was the smart one, and I believe her. Too smart for you, that's for sure. Beauty and brains with a sharp wit and a luscious body to boot. Let's just say that in her . . . delicate condition, shall we call it? Yes. In her delicate condition, she figured out right away that there was no point in fighting and she's been . . . most accommodating. As long as she continues to behave and as long as you make good on your obligations, she should be home real soon. But I can't make any guarantees about what might happen if I decide I don't have your attention anymore, so don't drag your fucking feet Seeley. I won't find her so entertaining for much longer."

Looking towards his goons, Jimmy added "Now, get him out of here."

Booth's mind was numb with terror for Bones, but he knew there was nothing more he could do right now. Bones would've fought Jimmy and his companions tooth and nail before letting them take her away or touch her if she hadn't been pregnant and now he worried about just what was being required of her while she was being forced to comply submissively.

He let Jimmy's thugs guide him out of the bar, his mind preoccupied with what he needed to do to get her back. His last thought before he felt the first blow to his solar plexus was that he'd be at the bank the minute the doors opened. Several blows later and Jimmy's companions left him lying on the dirty concrete sidewalk, curled up in a ball, waiting for the pain to subside enough for him to make it back to his truck without passing out.

* * *

 **A/N:** _Comments welcome!_


	6. Chapter 5

**A/N:** _Was hoping to get this chapter up a little sooner, but I got carried away with writing and decided to break it into two parts. That said, next chapter should be up within a couple days as it's already far along._

* * *

 **Disclaimer** : I own nothing _Bones_ related except my imagination.

* * *

Booth pulled his truck into the driveway at Max's house. He knew it was late, too late really to be knocking on his father-in-law's door. But, he just couldn't face going back to his house and crawling into the bed he shared with Bones _alone_. Just the thought of walking into their bedroom, hearing nothing but silence, and seeing the bed where they'd made such passionate love so many times laying empty in the dark caused an aching constriction in his chest that he didn't have the strength to handle. Not tonight.

Booth didn't have a key to Max's house. Bones did, but Booth had never visited Max's house when Bones wasn't with him. It was an odd thing to just be realizing as he rang the doorbell, feeling out-of-place and unsure of his reception.

He didn't have to wait long before he heard the snick of the deadbolt unlocking. As the front door swung open, he could hear Max grousing. "It's about damn time you showed up Booth. It's almost 2 AM. I was beginning to wonder whether you were actually going to come by or not." Max stood in the doorway in a white undershirt and plaid cotton boxers with a pair of white athletic socks on his feet looking tired, but alert. He'd been awake already, or still as the case may be, based on his comments.

Momentarily surprised, Booth questioned "You were expecting me?"

"Where the hell else were you gonna go? Your baby girl is here." Max answered logically with a shrug of his shoulders, stepping back to allow Booth to cross the threshold.

As soon as Booth entered the foyer, he turned to thank Max and was met with a surprisingly powerful right hook to the jaw, causing his head to snap back on his shoulders as he stumbled backwards into the free-standing coat rack, caught off balance. "What the fuck?" he snarled angrily at Max, righting himself and glaring heatedly at the 70-ish year old man who'd just clocked him.

"Ow. Jesus Christ, Booth. What's your jaw made out of anyway? Titanium? Damn, that hurt." Max stood there shaking out his hand and looking at Booth as though Booth had somehow offended _him_ by smashing his jaw into Max's fist instead of the other way around. Turning to walk nonchalantly down the hall and into the living area, Max informed him "That was for you being an idiot and making my baby girl cry by the way."

The last few hours had been really, really rotten for Booth and he was in a foul mood. The battle tested warrior in him was ready to brawl and for a brief moment, he was tempted to retaliate and strike back at Max. Thankfully, a bigger part of him recognized that Max wasn't the source of his anger and while it might feel really good for a few minutes to beat up on someone else for a bit, easing some of his tension, Max didn't deserve to become the target of his aggression. Besides, he'd earned that punch and he probably should have been expecting it he conceded. If he hadn't been so tired from the day's events and preoccupied with thoughts of his wife, he would've been.

Reigning in his roiling anger with a deep breath, Booth followed Max into the next room where Max was standing by the side board, pouring two-fingers of bourbon into a tumbler. When done, Max extended the glass to Booth, "Here."

Booth reached for the glass gratefully and took a large sip, relishing the smooth burn that followed the amber liquid down his throat. It was just what he needed right then. Booth was struck anew at his father-in-law's uncanny ability to understand people and their needs or motivations. It's what made him such a good con-man. He was brilliantly rational, like Bones, yet intuitively understood what made people tick, like Booth. Christine and her unborn sibling were likely to be very similar to Max, having Booth and Brennan as parents and that thought both encouraged and terrified Booth a little.

Max studied Booth for a moment with a focused intensity that reminded him of Bones when she was in her lab and he was reminded again that she inherited her love of science from her father. "You really fucked up this time Booth, but we can wait until morning to get into how you're going to fix it. It's late. I'm going to bed. You can bunk with Christine in the guest room like Tempe usually does or you can take the couch – your choice."

Booth nodded his head at Max, indicating his understanding and agreement.

"We good?" Max checked.

"Yeah. We're good."

As Max left the room, headed for his bed, Booth stood staring into his tumbler of bourbon for a few moments, lost in thought, slowly coming to the full realization from Max's welcome that _fixing-it_ was going to involve more than simply paying Jimmy his due and getting Bones home. He'd hurt Bones. Made her cry. Any pain she was feeling now, physical or emotional, was his fault . . . a result of his actions and deceptions.

A sense of defeat washed over him. He was too tired to struggle with this anymore tonight. Tossing back the rest of the contents of his glass, Booth turned towards the guestroom and the one thing right now that could make him feel better – could give him hope. Stripping down to his t-shirt and boxers, Booth lifted the covers and slid into bed next to his four-year old daughter. Watching her innocent face in slumber and smelling the sweet little girl scent that was uniquely hers, Booth re-affirmed the vow he'd made earlier that night in his kitchen. _Whatever it takes, I'm gonna fix this mess_. With that thought firmly in mind, he wrapped his arms around his little princess and allowed sleep to finally claim him.

* * *

The sun had barely broken over the horizon the next morning when Booth felt soft fingers on his cheek pulling him back to consciousness. Slowly coming around, he blinked his eyes open to be greeted by Christine's smiling face as she gently patted him on the cheek. "Daddy. You're home," she stated the obvious with enthusiasm before crawling onto his chest and wrapping her arms around him, squeezing his neck. Booth's arms automatically wrapped around her little body too and he happily returned her hug. Needing to hear the sound of her laughter almost as much as he needed his next breath, he slid his hands to her tummy as she started to pull away and wiggled his fingers, tickling her mercilessly. Christine rolled off his chest in a fit of giggles, squirming and ordering him to stop, but enjoying their playtime as much as he.

It wasn't until a little while later, after they'd both dressed for the day and were sitting in the kitchen with Max, eating their fruit and cereal, that Booth was once again forced to deal with the reality of his situation. Christine looked up at him, her head tilted slightly the way it usually was when she was questioning things, and asked with innocent curiosity "Daddy? Where's mommy? I miss her. Why didn't she come home last night?"

Booth's first inclination was to give Christine a simple answer that would pacify her, but not alert her to the potential danger her mother was in. He was ashamed and couldn't imagine telling her the truth – _Some bad men kidnapped your mom because I'm an idiot and made a mistake and I have no idea how or if they've hurt her because of me_. However, if Bones had been hurt in any way, if she came home having experienced any sort of trauma at the hands of Jimmy and his henchmen, then it may not be possible to shelter Christine completely from this situation and Booth didn't want to get caught in a lie. Not again.

Swallowing the bile that rose at the unwelcome thought of Bones having been hurt, Booth struggled to answer without revealing his fear or worry. "I miss her too, Pumpkin. I know with absolute certainty that she would have preferred to be here with you last night rather than where she is, but she didn't have that choice. But, you know what?"

"What?"

"I expect that by the time you get home from daycare today, she'll be back and super-uper-duper glad to see you." He hoped and prayed she'd be back anyway.

His answer seemed to satisfy Christine for now, but it left Booth with the uncomfortable knowledge that if Bones was hurt in any way, his little girl was going to figure out that the daddy she worshiped so completely wasn't made up of hero material after all. The thought of her looking at him with anything other than absolute love and adoration in her eyes . . . the thought of his actions causing her to prematurely loose some of her innocence . . . the thought that because of him, Christine could possibly end up suffering a little too, becoming collateral damage . . . these thoughts were some of the hardest realities he'd had to face yet. It reminded him of one of the truths that he'd been avoiding by denying he was battling addiction – the families of the addict often suffered as much, if not more, than the addict themselves.

When she finished her breakfast, Christine bounded off to her room to gather her stuff together for daycare and play with her dolls until it was time to leave.

"I'll drop her off at the Jeffersonian daycare on my way to the bank," Booth told Max while clearing his dishes and putting the remaining food items away.

Looking up from his newspaper and coffee cup, Max responded. "You sure? I don't mind helping out if you need me to."

"Nah. I plan to be at the bank when the doors open so I'll be out and about anyway. Thanks though, for the offer."

"Well, I'll be around all morning if you need anything. Like backup. You know where to go to find this Jimmy guy once you have the money?"

"Yeah. Jimmy won't be hard to find. Thanks Max. For everything. Just . . . thanks."

Max gave Booth a nod, then snorted. "Enough said. We're not girls."

* * *

As promised, Booth was standing at the front door of the bank, waiting impatiently, when they unlocked the doors promptly at 9:00 and let him in. Booth approached the teller and made his request to withdraw $35,000 in cash from the joint account he shared with Bones. Given the size of the withdrawal, he wasn't all that surprised when after a moment of looking at his computer screen, the teller excused himself to go speak with the bank manager. A few moments later, the teller returned with the bank manager in tow.

"Mr. Seeley Booth?" a well-dressed Indian gentleman inquired with a cultured accent, reaching out to shake Booth's hand. "My name is Pradeep Khosla, the manager here today. Most of my dealings in the past have been with your lovely wife. Please. Would you come with me?"

Mr. Khosla led Booth into his private office and closed the door, indicating for Booth to take a seat in one of the chairs in front of his desk while he settled himself into his own chair. Mr. Khosla leaned forward with his arms braced on the edge of the desk and calmly folded his hands together, fingers entwined and looked Booth over.

Pradeep Khosla saw before him a man of action and power who was obviously battling some heavy personal issues. There were bruised shadows under Booth's eyes reflecting the fact that he'd only actually managed to sleep about four hours the night before. His face was unshaven and Pradeep could see a faint bruising mark on Booth's jaw indicating a recent physical altercation. There was a desperation in the depths of Booth's eyes and an unnatural tightness to how he held himself that, to Pradeep, indicated this man's inner soul was not at peace. This assessment was reinforced when Booth crossed his ankle over his leg and proceeded to let his foot fidget energetically.

Trying to hold on to his patience under the other man's scrutiny, Booth questioned "Is there a problem?" He'd never personally withdrawn such a large sum of money in cash at one time and wondered whether there was some special protocol to be followed or whether the manager was simply preparing to tell him it would take them a little time to pull the money together, but he was unprepared for what came next.

"Yes, Mr. Booth. There is." Pradeep took a calming breath, fully expecting the next few minutes to become unpleasant. This is the part of his job that he least enjoyed. He was a finance guy and liked working with numbers. Unfortunately, all too often he got dragged into conversations like the one he was about to start when customers of the bank found themselves in marital disputes. "You see Mr. Booth, the account from which you are trying to withdraw money from only has a balance of around $7,500 right now."

"What? That can't be right – check your records again." Booth replied. This account was his joint account with Bones. They both still had individual accounts that had been set up before they were together that they maintained for small things, but this joint account was where they kept the majority of their cash and usually carried a balance somewhere between $50,000 and $100,000 in it. In addition to their regular paychecks from the FBI and the Jeffersonian, Bones would deposit all her checks from various other income streams – book and movie royalties, speaking engagements, investment dividends, and the like – into this account as well. Whenever the value exceeded the $100,000 mark, they would sit down and discuss where to invest or donate some funds and drop it back down to the $50,000 range again.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Booth. Your wife transferred most of the money out of this account and into a different account that you are not authorized access to yesterday morning. All that is left in this account now is roughly $7,500."

Booth was stunned. "But . . . but, I need $35,000. For her. I need the money for _her_."

"Again, I'm sorry Mr. Booth. There is nothing I can do."

Booth couldn't allow himself to get caught up in thinking about the significance of why Bones had moved the majority of their money to where he couldn't access it. Instead, he tried to regroup and figure out how to get the money he needed. He had a little extra money in his checking account but Bones had almost depleted the money he had in his savings account when she bought the new house. He had some retirement investments he could cash in on, but that meant going through the FBI administrative offices and would take some time. Possibly several days to a week.

Trying to quell the rising panic, Booth focused solely on right now and authorized the bank manager to withdraw what he could from the joint account with Bones plus his personal checking account. Roughly 30 minutes later, he left the bank with around $10,000 in cash. Still reeling from being unable to get the money he needed, he headed back to Max's house to sit down and come up with a plan to get the rest.

* * *

One look at Booth's face when he opened the door and Max knew something had gone wrong. Furrowing his brows, he looked at the younger man and asked "What happened?"

Shaking his head in lingering bewilderment, Booth confessed "I couldn't get the money. Not all of it anyway. Bones withdrew almost all the cash from our joint account and I don't have enough left to cover the debt."

"Oh," Max said, suddenly looking a little sheepish. "I, um, I might have had something to do with that."

Booth speared Max with a look that demanded Max elaborate. "I, uh, I suggested to Tempe the other day that she might want to consider curtailing your access to easy cash as long as you have this gambling issue going on."

"Really Max? What the fuck? I have never let my gambling debts interfere with my obligations, Max. Never." Booth was seething with fury and frustration.

Max wasn't one to pull his punches or back down though. "Is that right Booth? You fell 30-large in the hole in a matter of a few weeks. At that rate, you'd be down 200-300 grand by the time one year passed. How did you plan to pay that back? You thought you'd win the next hand didn't you? But what if you didn't? How bad were you going to let it get before you spoke up, hmm? Maybe you never got in that deep when you were younger, but you've got access to more money now and it's real easy, real tempting to play in the deep end where the stakes are higher isn't it Booth?"

The two men glared at one another, the tension between them taught as a string about to break when Booth finally backed down. "Stop. Okay, just stop. Let's just focus on what I need to do to bring Bones home again."

Much as it galled him, Booth knew Max was right. Before going to Iran, he had been unconcerned about the compounding debt, cockily assuming that he'd get back on top and start winning again any day. He was also right that this time around, Booth was taking bigger chances and playing in a league where the stakes were higher than what he'd done over a decade ago. Back then, he'd never have been able to handle a $30,000 debt. It would've destroyed him. That was more than half his annual take home pay when he was younger. No bookie would've staked him for more back then with that kind of debt and they were only doing it now because of his access to the type of money Bones brought home.

"I can get you about $5,000 this morning," Max offered. "I can get the rest too, but it may take a couple days as it's _secured_ in a way that makes it harder to extract."

"Aaargh," Booth exclaimed in frustration, dropping onto the couch and letting his head drop into his hands for a few moments before looking back up at Max. "Thanks Max, but hold that thought for a bit. I've been going over all the options in my mind since leaving the bank. I could sell some of my vintage collectibles, but that would take time we don't have and I wouldn't get nearly as much money as they're worth trying to sell them in a rush like this so it probably wouldn't be enough. I could cash in some retirement savings, but again, that will take time. I could use the money I got this morning as a stake in another game and try to win the money."

"No," Max jumped in emphatically. "No one ever wins when they're desperate Booth. You know that. Gambling more is not the answer and Tempe would kill me if I condoned letting you try that."

Nodding his head, Booth agreed. "Yeah. I know. So that only really leaves me one option. I need to borrow the money from someone who's likely to have that kind of cash sitting around and who isn't going to come after me or my family while waiting to get paid back."

"Do you know someone like that?"

"Fortunately, yes. Jack Hodgins."

* * *

 **A/N:** _I know from comments that a lot of you are eager to find out what's happened to Brennan. We'll learn some about her fate in the next chapter. Hope you're still enjoying this – love to hear your comments._


	7. Chapter 6

**A/N:** _Sorry. Sorry. Sorry. I promised a couple folks I'd have this posted sooner, but the whole working for a living thing got in the way with some long hours this last week. Hopefully things will be calmer next week and I'll post a little quicker. That said, here's the next chapter. Enjoy!_

* * *

 **Disclaimer** : I own nothing _Bones_ related except my imagination.

* * *

Booth entered the Jeffersonian a man on a mission. As soon as he made it through the glass double doors leading into the Medico-Legal Lab area, he made a beeline straight to Jack Hodgin's work area, not wanting to get waylaid by anyone else or halted to answer any questions. Fortunately, with their late return last night and the weekend just a day away, Cam had planned to stay home today with Arastoo and make up for some lost time together, so that was two less people he had to worry about encountering.

Luckily for Booth, when he strode into Dr. Hodgin's experiment room, the good doctor was in. It was the first thing that seemed to go right since he'd arrived home last night, Booth thought, hoping it was a sign that his fortunes were about to change.

Jack glanced up from his microscope when he saw movement at the door out of his peripheral vision and was surprised to find Booth standing there, hands on hips, looking almost relieved to see him. "Heeey Booth! Welcome home, man. I didn't expect to see you here today. Boy will Angie be glad to see Dr. Brennan. She's been going crazy trying to reach Dr. B since last night. You should've heard her going on and on thinking all sorts of bad things had happened. Made my conspiracy theories seem tame by comparison," he chuckled with a little shake of his head. Giving Booth a friendly smile before leaning back over his microscope, Jack teased "I told her you guys probably just turned the ringers off on your phones and didn't want to be disturbed."

God how Booth wished that had been the truth of the matter. He took a deep, fortifying breath. He _hated_ having to ask someone, anyone, for help. Ever. Asking this time seemed especially difficult since he knew he brought this mess on himself. But this was for Bones and he accepted he needed to swallow his pride and just do it. "Yeah. Listen, Bug-boy . . . Jack, I, uh, I need your help with something. A favor."

Hodgins, hearing the subtle tone of anxiety in Booth's voice, finally realized Booth wasn't there just on a social call and he took a closer look at his friend. Booth looked more tired and apprehensive than happy-to-be-home and Jack's whole demeanor changed instantly, becoming serious as he stood up a little taller and gave Booth his full attention. "Shoot, yeah, of course man. Anything you need. Is everything okay?"

Booth shook his head stepping fully into Hodgin's room and closing the door behind him. "No. No, it's not."

Booth lifted a hand to his face and rubbed from his brow to his jaw a couple times, stealing a few quick seconds to gather his composure as the next words out of his mouth were going to be very difficult for him to say. Everyone else he'd spoken to since coming home – Aubrey, Max, Jimmy – they'd already been aware of Bones disappearance and the reason behind it. This was the first time that Booth was going to have to man up and explain to someone who was unaware of just what was happening and why. He felt the tears burning in the back of his eyes and his throat getting tight and took another deep breath stalling for control before plunging in. "Look, it's about Bones. She's, uh . . . she's being held hostage by my bookie, who I owe some money to, until I can pay him back and Bones, uh, while I was out of town, she, uh, she sorta moved all our money to where I can't access it anymore. I, um, I need a loan." Booth swallowed, amazed at how much it bothered him to admit that Bones didn't trust him anymore. Not with their money at least and who knew at this point what other damage had been done to her basic trust in him as a person. Booth couldn't let himself get side-tracked thinking about that though.

"Yeah, of course. It's yours." Jack was stunned to hear Brennan was being held captive and not entirely certain how to respond. Angie was so totally going to freak out when she found out about it. He could hear the _I-told-you-so's_ from the night before echoing in his head already. "Sooo . . . I take it you're gambling again?" Jack prodded gently.

Booth opened his mouth to deny it, then realized he couldn't. After all, the truth was out there now and he'd already been exposed. His next inclination was to downplay it and say he was just dabbling a bit, nothing serious, but realized he couldn't really do that either, not with the debt he owed being as large as it was. So, with a heavy sense of shame and embarrassment, he just gave a quick nod of his head, unable to actually voice the affirmation.

"How long has it been going on?"

Booth didn't want to answer. He really didn't. He wanted to snap at Jack and tell him it was none of his damn business, but given that he was there in Jack's laboratory begging for a loan, Booth felt obligated to confess at least some of his sins. "Since the Jeff Dover case," he admitted, reluctantly, referring to the investigation where he'd gone undercover to infiltrate a group of poker players.

"And Dr. B knew about this?" Jack asked, figuring she must've known if she cut Booth off from their funds, but still a little surprised that Brennan wouldn't have said anything to Angie and knowing Angie would've told him if she knew about it. Brennan must've been worried about it. Jack couldn't imagine her just accepting it passively.

Booth shook his head. "No. Not . . . not until I was away in Iran and my, uh, my bookie apparently paid her a visit . . . at our home."

"Ah. I get it now." Not surprisingly, Brennan had been worried and tense when Booth left with Cam to go to Iran in search of Arastoo, but a few days ago, something about her demeanor had shifted. It was subtle, but notable to those who'd known her so long. Jack and Angela had chatted about it over dinner the other night after work, both having noticed the difference but neither one of them could put their finger on what vibe they were getting or why. Angie thought that in addition to the understandable worry and tension, there was a deeper sorrow about Brennan coupled with a bite of anger to her emotions. Discovering Booth had been gambling would upset her, particularly if he'd had to lie to her at some point to keep it hidden from her.

"Dude, she didn't say anything about it that I'm aware of, but I think she may have been pretty pissed off. She tried to cover it up, but both Angie and I noticed. I assume you must've lied to her at least a few times over the last couple months to keep it a secret from her and you know how much she hates that. You'll be lucky if she doesn't feed you your balls on a silver platter when she gets back. How much money do you need?" Jack asked, watching as Booth's eyes darted around his room nervously before finally settling back on him.

Booth only needed the difference between what he owed Jimmy and what he withdrew from his own accounts that morning, so he didn't need to ask Jack for the full amount. "$25,000. I need $25,000."

Jack didn't flinch or bat an eyelash. He and Angie would've given every penny they had for Dr. B if they needed to, but luckily, the recent sale of Jack's rubber mat invention meant he had plenty of money in the bank now and 25K was a pittance. "Consider it done, man. Give me five minutes to stabilize my samples here and we'll be on our way."

Jack started collecting the slides he'd laid out to look at under the microscope and putting them each in special little separate containers with a quick label to help him pick up where he left off when he returned later. Once his work area was straightened up satisfactorily, he took off his lab coat and signaled to Booth that he was ready to leave.

As they turned to exit the lab, Booth asserted "I'll drive." There was no way he was squeezing himself into Jack's mini-cooper – his nerves were already drawn way too taut and cramming himself into that toy car would probably push him over the edge.

Jack Hodgins just smiled and gave him directions where to go.

* * *

Brennan lay on her back on her makeshift prison bed and tried not to think about what she was being put through as torture. But it was difficult.

She'd been terrified yesterday when Jimmy and his henchmen coerced her into leaving the Jeffersonian with them. More terrified than she could recall ever feeling before because it wasn't just her, but her baby that was at risk too. Even so, she felt complying with their demand was the safest path forward for her and her baby at that time. Brennan hated that feeling of impotence, having absolutely no control over her circumstances. Following along with the men passively went against all her natural instincts. But, she believes she made the right choice.

They'd brought her to a small, run-down house in an older part of town and locked her in this room. The walls were a dingy white and didn't appear to have seen a fresh coat of paint in many years. The closet doors had been removed from the closet leaving a 2 foot deep by 5 foot long alcove exposed along one wall. There was a grimy window which looked out into an alley way but it was locked from the inside, requiring a key to open it, and there were bars on the outside. The only furniture in the room consisted of a twin bed with a worn and lumpy mattress and pillow, a locked steel chest that served as a nightstand next to the bed, and a beige and blue stripped cushioned swivel chair that sat in the corner. Although Brennan had slept in dirtier and less comfortable places in the past and the actual bedding seemed clean, she was glad she didn't have her black light with her to expose what the human eye couldn't see.

Fortunately, there was a half-bath off the bedroom that provided her access to a sink and toilet. It allowed her to stay hydrated and to not fret over the demands of her body at this stage of her pregnancy for frequent urination.

She was so bored though and while intellectually she knew it was psychosomatic, she found it physically, mentally, and emotionally painful to sit still in one, small confined area for what felt like endless hours with absolutely no mental stimulation.

She'd spent what seemed like hours of time since arriving yesterday just sitting on the lumpy bed and meditating, focusing on some of the deep breathing and relaxation techniques she'd learned in her yoga classes as well as some from her past martial arts training exercises. The meditating helped keep her from dwelling too much on the many unpleasant thoughts that were swimming around in her head – What did these men have planned for her? Did Booth know what had happened to her yet? Was Christine safe? What should she say to Booth when she saw him next?

She hadn't seen Jimmy or his henchmen since they dropped her off yesterday. No, her current jailer was someone else completely. His name was Ralph and he wasn't as scary as the others despite the fact that he too was over six feet tall and solid muscle. Brennan thought Ralph seemed a little dim-witted. She believed the appropriate idiom was _a few cards short of a full deck_. From what she could gather based on his exchanges with Jimmy yesterday, Ralph was someone who blindly followed whatever orders he was given by Jimmy and in return, Jimmy took care of him. But, she wasn't sure if Ralph actually had the mental acuity to understand the difference between right and wrong. She imagined that if he was arrested and charged with kidnapping, or being an accessory to kidnapping, that his defense lawyer would probably be able to convincingly argue a mental disorder in order to keep him out of jail.

Even with his intimidating size, Brennan was pretty sure she could've taken Ralph out in a surprise attack and escaped if she wasn't pregnant. Even being pregnant, she thought there was a chance, but she wasn't willing to risk it. Partly because the outcome wasn't assured and she wouldn't do anything to jeopardize the life growing inside her and partly because even if she did get away, then what? She could get Christine and find somewhere to hide until Jimmy was paid off, but she didn't know enough about him and his cohorts to feel confident that would be the end of it. What if he was the type of villain to hold a grudge? Who knew how long she and Christine would be looking over their shoulders, waiting for him to strike in retaliation?

No. At this point, the wisest choice seemed to be to sit tight and let the situation play out. Other than being uncomfortable and incredibly bored, she wasn't feeling threatened or in danger at the moment and Ralph, while quiet, was a relatively accommodating jailer. She'd certainly had worse.

Brennan thought back on her dinner exchange from the night before. Ralph had opened her door and silently handed her a bag of food from a fast-food restaurant. He brought her a burger, fries, and a Sprite. Peeking in the bag as he turned to leave, Brennan told him "You can have the burger if you want. I won't eat it. I'm vegetarian."

Ralph had turned and given her a strange look, harrumphed, then reached into her bag, grabbed the burger and left without a word, so Brennan had dropped into the swivel chair and started nibbling on her fries, knowing that they weren't going to be nearly enough to satisfy the baby's excessive appetite. However, thirty minutes later, Ralph had returned and shoved a fresh, pre-made store bought salad at her – complete with a variety of greens, roasted corn, black beans, diced tomatoes, poblano peppers, and topped with tortilla chip strips and a southwest salad dressing.

"Here." He grunted then turned to leave again. It was actually quite tasty and incredibly thoughtful of him she'd acknowledged to herself.

This morning, he'd brought her yogurt with granola, fruit salad, a bagel with cream cheese, and fresh orange juice. So whatever else they had planned, it didn't seem they intended to starve her. It was amazing how a little decent food could help influence one's perspective on their situation and Brennan found her anxiety that she and her baby would suffer harm lessening a little further.

As he turned to leave yet again, Brennan stopped him once more. "Ralph? Is there anything you can give me to help pass the time? A puzzle? A book to read? Anything? Please. I find it quite tedious residing in one spot with nothing available to engage my intellect."

Ralph rolled his eyes and dropped his shoulders, but a short while later, he returned to find her laying on her back in bed, staring mindlessly at the ceiling. Ralph handed her a well-worn paperback book. "My wife likes this one," was all he said before leaving her alone once more.

Brennan looked down at the cover of the murder-mystery novel he'd provided and noted the novel was one in a series by author Tess Brown. _Well_ , she thought, _it'll help with the boredom even if it does nothing to stimulate my mind_ and she sat back down to read while waiting to see what would happen next.

* * *

 **A/N:** _Hope it's not too anticlimactic that Brennan is okay, but I just couldn't bring myself to hurt a pregnant woman! Comments?_


	8. Chapter 7

**A/N:** _My "me" time has been hard to find lately so it's taken me a little longer than I wanted to get this chapter up even though it has been partially written for a while now._

* * *

 **Disclaimer** : I own nothing _Bones_ related except my imagination.

* * *

As soon as the bank teller at Jack Hodgin's bank handed him the cash withdrawal he requested, Booth pulled out his phone and texted Jimmy while Jack loaded the money into a small duffel bag they'd brought along for just that purpose.

 ** _Got what I owe you. Where should I drop it?_**

As he waited for a response with directions, Booth and Hodgins left the bank building and headed back out to where Booth had parked his SUV. Booth couldn't help but think how fortunate he and Bones were to have friends like Jack and Angela. While he couldn't dispute that people who met Bones for the first time often found her off-putting – a little (or a lot) too arrogant, caustic or condescending, depending on the circumstance – most people who spent any time with her ended up admiring her, respecting her, and ultimately appreciating her unique brand of blunt honesty and her unfailing loyalty and devotion to those she chooses to champion. And no one could dispute that those people who knew her well enough to call her friend were all fiercely loyal to her too. Like Jack and Angela.

As Booth and Hodgins climbed into the SUV, Booth wanted to let Jack know just how much he appreciated his help, but he couldn't find the words to express the depth of what he was feeling right then. "Thanks, Jack," he offered, looking directly at Hodgins intently. "I really, really mean it. Bones and I are fortunate to call you friend so . . . just, thanks."

Jack knew Booth wasn't the kind of guy to get all sentimental with another guy so he understood the depth of feeling behind Booth's simple words and knew the best way to respond was just to keep it simple even though he found himself deeply touched. "No worries, man. Now, let's go get your wife back."

Booth checked his phone again but didn't see a response yet from Jimmy. "Yeah. I'll go ahead and drop you off back at the lab first while I wait to hear back about where to go."

"If you don't mind, I'd rather come with you when you deliver the money."

"There's no need for that, Jack. I can take care of it," Booth assured him.

"Yeah, I'm sure you can buddy. And honestly? I know I'm not likely to be of much use if it turns into a fight of any sort, but Angela and Dr. Brennan would take turns flaying me alive if I let you go to wherever you're going by yourself and you got hurt. So, sorry dude. No can do. The women scare me more than whatever you're heading in to and I'm not letting you out of my sight again until this issue is resolved. Not if I can help it."

Booth had mixed feelings about letting Jack tag along with him. He appreciated the offer and truthfully, was happy of the company to help him keep his mind from wandering off to the many issues he was still going to be faced with even after he got Jimmy off his back. However, he really didn't care to have a witness to his disgrace and he definitely considered this pending meeting with Jimmy as his disgrace. "Tell you what," he elected to compromise. "I'd be happy to have you come along with me to wherever I have to meet Jimmy, but when we get there, I want you to stay out of the way and remain in the car. I don't want to spook Jimmy and make it look like I'm bringing in back-up. Deal?"

"Deal," Jack responded begrudgingly, deciding he'd at least see where they were heading before he made a fuss.

About ten agonizingly slow minutes later, Booth's phone finally chimed indicating a new incoming text message.

 ** _In Georgetown at Baked & Wired now. Meet me there._**

Having received the text he was waiting for, Booth responded he was on his way, then pulled out of the bank parking lot and pointed his SUV in the direction of the small but popular, family owned coffee shop and bakery Jimmy indicated he'd be waiting at.

Finding a convenient and legal parking space in Georgetown was a pain in the ass at the best of times. Today didn't qualify as the best of times by any stretch of the imagination so Booth decided to just pull up to the curb outside the two-story brick building where the coffee shop was housed and ignore the 'No Parking' signs, stopping his truck right out front. He didn't plan to be there long. Grabbing the money bag that he and Hodgins had just picked up from the bank, he exited the truck and headed into the restaurant. From his seat in the passenger's side of the truck, Jack could see a good bit of the coffee shop interior through the storefront windows so he remained behind, like Booth had requested.

As Booth entered the building, he was assailed by the rich aroma of freshly ground beans combined with the scent of newly baked breads reminding him it was already lunch time. In addition to the gourmet coffee selections listed on the blackboard menu behind the sales counter, there were numerous fresh baked goods including cakes, pies, cookies, and muffins displayed in small glass containers located on shelves and counters near the entrance of the store. Booth spied Jimmy sitting at a small table towards the back, reading from a tablet while sipping his coffee. In front of Jimmy sat a plate of crumbs, remnants from whatever pastry he'd just finished eating.

Pausing just for a moment to remind himself that until Bones was home, safe and sound, he needed to be civil to Jimmy and not anger him in a way that could put Bones in jeopardy, Booth headed towards the man he thought he'd really enjoy pummeling into the ground.

"Jimmy." Booth said simply, stopping beside his table.

Looking up from his table with a welcoming smile, Jimmy gestured to the seat opposite from him at the table. "Well, Seeley Booth. Would you care to join me for a bit? They make a mean Pear Pecan Coffee Cake here that is truly delicious."

Booth found Jimmy's overly solicitous manner extremely annoying and he clenched his fists as he bit his tongue, knowing he had to play this the way Jimmy wanted. "No. Thank you." Booth placed the duffle he was carrying on the table next to Jimmy's empty plate. "I don't have time to linger. I need to see my wife."

Jimmy placed a hand over the top of the bag, pulling it towards himself slightly as he studied Booth for a moment. The man standing in front of him was practically vibrating with tension, cloaked in an aura of barely suppressed violence. A perverse part of Jimmy, the part that as a boy liked to poke sticks into ant mounds and shake them around just to watch all the ants scatter like crazy, wondered how far he could push the agent before he snapped and what that might look like. But, alas, he was a man now, not a boy anymore and he had a business reputation to uphold. Much as he was tempted to pull Booth's strings some more, just for fun, Booth had fulfilled his obligation so it was time for Jimmy to fulfill his.

Picking up the cell phone resting on the table next to his coffee cup, Jimmy dialed Ralph's number.

"Ralph? It's Jimmy. It appears Mrs. Booth needs a ride to work. Think you can manage that for me?"

. . .

"Yes, the sooner the better. She's already missed the morning and I'm sure she's anxious to get to the office."

. . .

"No, I don't expect she'll want to stay for the special lunch you made her. Perhaps you can wrap it up for her to go since you went through such effort to prepare it."

. . .

"Yes, until you're out of the neighborhood."

. . .

"Yes. That's right. You know what to do. Give me a call when you're done."

Hanging up on the conversation with Ralph, Jimmy turned his attention back to Booth. "Your wife will be returned to the Jeffersonian shortly."

Hands in his pockets, Booth spun on his heel at those words and headed for the door, eager to confirm for himself that Bones was all right. He was partway there when he heard Jimmy call out to him again "Oh, Seeley," like there was something he'd forgotten to mention. Booth turned back to see what he needed. Jimmy was leaning on his elbows on the small table, the duffel bag snuggled safely against his chest and between his arms. But, in one hand, Jimmy held one of the $1000 bundles of cash up like an offering. "Phillies are playing the Orioles tonight. What d'ya say?"

The implication was clear. Jimmy was offering to take a $1K bet from Booth on his expected outcome of the game. Booth's brain started screaming at him that this was the man who had threatened his family, kidnapping and God only knows what else to Bones, putting his goons on Booth for a beating, and Booth wanted nothing more to do with him. But despite all of that, he found himself staring at the bundle of bills in Jimmy's hands, unable to turn and walk away, unable to tell Jimmy to _go to hell_ like he wanted to. He stood there frozen in place. The Phillies versus the Orioles. Cole Hamels was pitching. What were the odds on the game?

* * *

Brennan lay on her side on the bed in her room, one hand folded beneath her head while the other gently ran over and around her swollen belly in a mindless, hypnotic caress as she stared at nothing. She was hungry. She was bored. She wondered how much longer she would have to stay here. She wondered who knew she was missing and what they were doing to get her back.

There was a soft tap at the door warning her that Ralph was about to enter. He didn't wait for her permission, but the knock at least alerted her he was coming in. As he entered the room, Brennan noted he had two items in his hands. One, a fairly full brown paper lunch bag and the other, a long strip of black material.

Seeing the questions on her face, Ralph explained. "Takin you home." He walked over to her as she sat up on the bed and thrust the lunch bag at her in his typical unpolished gruff manner. "Made you lunch."

Seeing the red tinge on the tips of his ears, Brennan realized Ralph was embarrassed and correctly deduced that he'd made a special effort on her behalf. Feeling charmed by the efforts of the large, oafish man, Brennan gave him a small, sincere smile. "Thank you, Ralph. That was very nice of you and I appreciate it. I'm sure it'll be wonderful."

"Humph." Ralph wasn't used to people appreciating things he did and didn't know what to say. He liked this lady and was glad Jimmy was letting her go because she'd seemed so sad here, but he was kinda gonna miss her too. Not used to those kinds of thoughts, he focused back on the task Jimmy had given him. Holding up the black strip of material, he told her "Gotta cover your eyes. Boss says so."

"Okay," Brennan responded, knowing she had little choice in the matter but to trust he really was taking her home as indicated. "Let me put my shoes on."

Once she slipped her shoes back on her feet, Brennan stood up and turned her back to Ralph, making it easier for him to cover her eyes with the blindfold. Then, lunch bag in one hand, she placed her other hand on his arm and allowed him to lead her from the room and out to a car.

After they'd been driving for about ten minutes, Ralph told her she could remove her blindfold. She was in the back seat and the windows were tinted, but Jimmy didn't want anyone to see her sitting blindfolded in the car once they got onto the busier roads of the city. The blindfold was just to keep her ignorant of the house and neighborhood she'd been kept in and once they were away from there, they figured it was no longer necessary.

Ralph pulled over to the curb and told her to get out about two blocks before he reached the Jeffersonian. He had been instructed to let her out a couple blocks away from the Jeffersonian in case they had increased the security around the lab in anticipation of her return. Brennan didn't hesitate. As soon as he told her she was free to go, she grabbed her lunch bag and hopped out of the car, never looking back as she mingled with the other pedestrians on the sidewalk and headed towards the building that still represented safety and security to her despite it being the location of her recent abduction.

Brennan's cell phone, wallet, driver's license, and employee badge had all been tucked inside her messenger bag which Jimmy had stashed in the trunk of her car so she headed for the parking garage beneath the building rather than going through the front entrance. Of course, all the guards knew her, but without her security badge or I.D. they weren't technically supposed to admit her to the building. Once in the garage, she found her car in its usual spot and quickly discovered that the car was unlocked with her belongings still in the trunk. Relieved, she grabbed for her cell phone first, wanting to call Booth and let him know where she was. Unfortunately, the battery on her phone was dead so she was going to have to wait until she could get to her office before she could phone him. Clipping her badge to her shirt, she headed upstairs, leaving Ralph's lunch offering in the trunk with the rest of her belongings.

The activity in the lab appeared to be business as usual Brennan noted as she entered. No one seemed to react to her presence or demonstrate any indication that they had been aware of her disappearance which felt a little surreal to her. Truth was, Hodgins and Angela were the only two Jeffersonian employees who knew she'd been abducted and Hodgins didn't even tell Angela the details until after he and Booth returned from dropping off the money with Jimmy, at which point he was able to reassure her that Brennan would be returned soon.

No, the only thing Brennan saw that looked unusual was Booth in her office. As she approached, she could see him through the glass walls, agitatedly pacing back and forth in front of her couch and staring down at the cell phone in his hands as though he could make it ring by will power alone. Seeing his distress, Brennan quickened her pace as much as she could without making a spectacle of herself and garnering the attention of her other colleagues in the lab given her awkward pregnant body.

Seeing movement out of the corner of his eye, Booth looked up from his phone just as Brennan came hustling through the door to her office and they both immediately reached for one another, clinging together in an embrace of love and longing which spoke volumes without any words required.

They stood that way for a long time. It was an embrace they both needed desperately. While he'd tried to subdue it, Booth had been terrified that Brennan would reject him once she was freed and as he held her in his arms, he could feel the icy terror that had gripped his heart slowly start to thaw a little. Brennan knew Booth and she knew that he would've been torturing himself ever since he came home to an empty house ( _was it really only the night before?_ ). For both their sakes, she felt she needed to hold him and to comfort him. It didn't mean all was forgiven, but it meant she had faith in them, together.

Eventually, Booth pulled back from the hug, sliding his arms from where they were wrapped around her back to where he could cup her shoulders in his palms. Stepping back slightly, he looked her over from head to toe. "You okay Bones? Did they hurt you in any way?" His heart was racing and even though she seemed alright, he was still scared of what she might say.

Blinking away the moisture in her eyes which she totally blamed on her hormones, Brennan reached up and placed both her hands on Booth's cheeks, cupping his face and holding it in place so she could look directly into his eyes. "I'm fine Booth. My back aches from the ergonomically inadequate furniture I had to contend with but other than that, the worst thing I suffered from was boredom." Seeing the volatile brew of emotions still churning in his eyes, she tried to offer him the assurance she thought he needed and start addressing the real issue that was still before them, his gambling. "I love you, Booth. Always and completely. You are metaphorically my other half and without you and your love, my life would be a mere shadow of what it is now. Yes, I'm furious at you right now for lying to me and for putting me, Christine, and this baby of ours in danger, but that doesn't negate my love for you."

"God, Bones. I love you so much." Booth leaned down and pressed his lips to hers, engaging her in a kiss which tried to tell her just how much he needed her too.

As they pulled apart, Brennan reached up and ran her thumb across his bottom lip, amazed that after all this time, just a kiss from him could still stir her so much. "I missed you," she admitted. "I'm glad you're home, but, Booth . . . we're not done with this discussion. As much as I love you, my first priority right now is – has to be – to our children. I need to do whatever is necessary to ensure their safety. That means, I need to be able to trust you not to lie to me anymore. That means no more gambling. Without that, without honesty and trust between us, we're nothing. If you can't promise me these things, then Christine and I can't stay with you any longer. So, tell me honestly Booth, are you still gambling? Are there any other debts you owe or wagers you've made that you're waiting to hear back on?"

* * *

 **A/N:** _What do you think?_


	9. Chapter 8

**Disclaimer** : I own nothing _Bones_ related except my imagination.

* * *

" _So, tell me honestly Booth, are you still gambling? Are there any other debts you owe or wagers you've made that you're waiting to hear back on?"_

Bone's voice echoed in his head as he thought back to his encounter just a short while ago with Jimmy Kosinski, the man who'd triggered the inevitable exposure of his gambling weakness to the woman standing in front of him right now, the woman who had the power to take away everything he cherished in his life. Booth knew she was strong enough to do it too, despite how much it would hurt her as well, if she felt it was in the best interests of their children.

Is he still gambling?

Booth honestly wasn't sure how to answer that question. When Jimmy held up that money, taunting him and tempting him to place another wager, every instinct Booth possessed told him he needed to walk away, but his feet had been glued to the ground, refusing to cooperate. The fact that his desire to take the bet was so strong even though there were a whole list of rational arguments not to do so forced him to fully accept that the gambling bug truly had control over him, not the other way around. He had to face the fact that maybe he wasn't as strong as he had previously believed and without at least the illusion of strength, he felt defenseless, as though the addiction had already won.

Even now with a little time and distance from the incident, he still wasn't sure what he would have done if not for Hodgins. He'd like to think he would have done the right thing, but he just wasn't sure that was true.

Hodgins had been watching Booth through the front window of the coffee shop from the car. Something about the way Booth's posture had stiffened when Jimmy threw out his challenge worried Hodgins, even though he didn't know what was being said and he decided it was time to intervene. Hodgins popped his head in the front door to the coffee shop and simply called his name.

"Booth?" he'd asked, concern evident in his tone as he sought confirmation that things were alright.

It was enough to break the trance Booth had been in and get him moving in the right direction again. Booth turned his back on Jimmy and walked out the door with Hodgins, assuring him everything was fine and letting him know that Bones would be delivered back to the Jeffersonian shortly.

Brennan, still held loosely in Booth's embrace, her hands resting on his waist, watched Booth's face closely as he struggled to answer her questions. "Booth, right now, I'm more concerned with an honest answer and understanding the current situation than I am with whether or not the answer is that you're still gambling. Please. I need to know the truth."

Booth continued to stand there silently, his eyes pleading with her for understanding while he searched for the words he needed to find but not sure exactly what the truth was. How could he tell her honestly that he was done with gambling when he'd almost succumbed to the first temptation he encountered barely an hour earlier? But, how could he expect her to stay if he wasn't done with it?

He felt her start to stiffen beneath his hands. "Based on your silence, I'm going to assume that means this wasn't the end of it. What else do you owe?"

"No," he finally choked out in despair. "I mean . . . I don't owe any one else any money and there aren't any other wagers I'm still waiting to hear about, okay? That's the truth, Bones."

Brennan pulled away from him and moved so she was leaning against the front her desk, arms crossed, and looked at him coolly. "I want to believe you Booth. But you lied to me. Several times in fact. And you used me too. You took advantage of my knowledge to help you place your bets."

"Look, I'm sorry about that, Bones. So, so sorry. I know I let you down and I let Christine down and I promise I'm going to work really hard to ensure that it never happens again."

"You can't expect that it never will. I anticipate there will be times in the future when either Christine or I will feel like you let one of us down or one of you will feel as though I've let you down. It's inevitable. What's important is that we work through it when it happens."

"I meant the gambling, Bones. I don't want to gamble any more. I don't like the hold it has on me. I want to fix this, to make it right, and get back to where we were."

"While I think that's commendable Booth and necessary if we're to stay together as a family, you understand it's not just the gambling that made me upset, right? Well, I mean, not directly." When Booth just looked at her in silence, she elaborated. "You're an addict Booth. You're addicted to gambling. I've always known this about you and it doesn't make me love you any less. The fact that you gambled is not what made me angry but rather that when you started gambling, it became your first priority. You _lied_ Booth. You know how I feel about lies. You lied to me in order to protect your gambling habit and in doing so, you put me, Christine, and our unborn baby in danger. I won't tolerate that Booth. It's simply unacceptable. I have to know that I can trust you, and rely on you if we're to share our lives together. This baby, Christine, and I have to be your first priorities. Gambling is an addiction for you and like any other addiction, if not managed, it has the potential to consume you, destroying your life and the lives of those around you."

"You're right Bones. I know that you're right. But, I . . . I just don't know . . . if I'm strong enough to overcome it." Booth struggled with the admission, never one to easily admit to a perceived weakness. Even more so when he worried that weakness could diminish his value in her eyes.

Booth began to pace again, running his fingers through his hair in agitation before wringing his hands together. He wouldn't, he couldn't look at her while he tried to explain, certain he'd fall apart at the disappointment and condemnation he was sure to see in her expression.

Once he started to talk about it though, the words kept coming, even if they were somewhat rambling and disjointed and she let him speak, uninterrupted. "I thought I was in control, you know? I thought I could just walk away when I needed to . . . I have _everything_ I have ever wanted in my life right now between you, Christine, Parker, the new baby on the way. We've a fantastic home and jobs we both find rewarding . . . I'm happy on so many fronts with the way my life is going. I thought I was strong enough to handle the gambling because I didn't need it or the rush it provides in order to feel good, you know? _You_ make me feel good. Every day, Bones. Every. Damn. Day . . . and I guess I thought that because I'm happy, I would be more in control. That I could keep it light and fun, nothing more, nothing heavy or serious . . . But, I . . . I was wrong, Bones. I'm not strong enough. I'm not. And now, I know I need to fix it, but I'm not sure how. Not sure if I can." Booth's voice was barely above a whisper by the end of his confession.

He finally risked a glance at his wife, needing to see her reaction yet fearing it at the same time. He was surprised by the pride he saw shinning in her eyes. Brennan realized that Booth admitting he wasn't strong enough was a monumental step in dealing with his addiction and she was proud of him for acknowledging his limitations. It meant he was more likely to accept the help he was going to need to get through this ordeal.

She held out her hands to him and he stepped closer to her, placing his hands in hers and feeling her twine their fingers together in a solid clasp. It was a reassuring feeling.

"Are you done?"

Booth nodded, not sure what else to add at that moment.

"Nothing that you just told me changes my love for you, understand? Being strong doesn't mean you won't struggle with the urge to gamble again. It's a craving I know you'll have to fight for the rest of your life. But part of being strong means that you understand and accept your humanity with all its limitations. And sometimes, when life throws something at us that we're not strong enough to handle alone, we have to borrow on the strength of the loved ones around us. _You_ taught me that, Booth. Simply by being there for me and sharing your strength with me when I've needed it. You are a very strong man Booth but most importantly, you're not alone in this. While this is your battle and you have to be willing to work hard, it affects me too and I want to share this burden as much as possible. I love you and if you stumble, I'll be right here to help pick you back up as long as you're being honest with me. We're a good team, you and I, and if you let me help you, if you don't keep secrets and try to hide what you're going through from me, especially when it gets difficult, then I don't think there's anything we can't get through. Together."

Booth wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close. Knowing she was willing to forgive him for his recent transgressions and that she was in his corner on this issue lifted a huge weight off his shoulders that had been crushing him. "You're the best Bones and I'm a lucky man to have you on my side."

Brennan slipped her hand into his pocket and pulled out his phone. "Call your gambling sponsor Booth. Tell him what's happened and find out how soon he can meet with you to help determine the path forward," she instructed, handing him the phone.

"Right now?"

"Yes, Booth. Right now."

With a deep breath, Booth started to dial.

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 **A/N:** _Comments?_


	10. Epilogue

**A/N:** _Happy 4th of July to my fellow Americans!_

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 **Disclaimer** : I own nothing _Bones_ related except my imagination.

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Booth sat at the kitchen counter pretending to read the newspaper and studied the small bronze disc in his hands, slowly rubbing it between his fingers and letting the feel of it seep into his system. He'd just received it the night before. It was really quite small as far as trophies go – maybe just a little more than 1-1/4 inch diameter, less than 1/8 inch thick, but it was huge in terms of what it meant to him. The Serenity Prayer was written on the back side: _God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference_. The front depicted a banner along the top containing the words _Gamblers Anonymous_ which, coupled with the phrase _One Day at a Time_ along the bottom, wrapped around the raised center that in this case depicted 0.5 - the number of years that had passed since his last bet.

0.5.

Six months.

It was a major achievement and it felt wonderful to hit this milestone. Bones came with him last night to the GA meeting where he was awarded for his success and afterward, when they got home, she made sweet love to him with a tenderness and devotion that left no room for doubts about her love for him and her pride in his accomplishment.

But, he also knew it was just a baby step on the path ahead of him. He had a 10-year medallion tucked away in the back of his sock drawer that he had earned shortly before he fell off the wagon so he truly understood this time around that his addiction was something he'd have to be vigilant about for the rest of his life. It would never fully go away.

That's not to say things hadn't gotten better, easier. As he'd told Bones once, when he was actively gambling, he'd bet on about anything. But, his real weakness this last go around had been sporting events and it had taken a while for the siren's call to fade away enough for him to even enjoy watching an event without his mind constantly calculating odds and being distracted by potential payoffs.

Bones had banned watching any sort of sporting event on TV or the computer in the house for the first four months, only recently relenting and allowing one or two events a week.

Instead, she had surprised him with last minute tickets to a handful of collegiate sporting events where he'd not known who the star players were or any team stats so he'd not been tempted to make bets. They took Christine and the baby with them and he found himself just enjoying the games for the good entertainment they provided, loving the opportunity to teach his little girl about the sports he followed. He thought that had been pure genius on Bone's part, and told her so, as it helped refocus his attention of the love of sport and away from the thrill of the gamble.

He still heard the devil on his shoulder whispering into his ear with suggestions, taunting him, but it was a softer whisper now and so far, he'd been able to tune it out or shush it by focusing on other voices, like his wife's, reminding him that the stakes were too high, and he'd lose too much, even if he won.

He and Aubrey had inadvertently stumbled into a poker night a few weeks back when pursuing a lead for a case they were working. It was at a private residence and they'd walked in to the house to find about a half dozen tables set up with various poker games going on. Aubrey had spoken quietly into his ear, telling him to focus on the people, not the games, reminding him softly over and over what they were there to look for. When Booth did that, he was mildly surprised and slightly repelled by what he saw. There were at least two dozen people in the house whose attentions were concentrated intently on the cards and the majority of them were losing and simply looked sad. He'd always carried a mental picture in his head of card games being somewhere he could be winning and happy, but the evidence in front of him clearly refuted that. After interviewing the person they'd come to find, he and Aubrey left and Booth found himself surprisingly happy to go, not at all enticed to stay and join in as the overall atmosphere of loss and despair or desperation had given him a fresh perspective on what the game was really about.

Six whole months.

Things were almost back to where they used to be.

Bones no longer questioned him about every phone call that came in, studying him with a look that clearly indicated she was trying to determine whether he'd been speaking code to a bookie.

She didn't quiz him as intensely about his whereabouts every time he was out of the house as she'd done for a while there right after the whole Jimmy Kosinski ordeal.

Bones was still cautious about giving him access to large sums of money. She'd moved most of their ready cash out of their joint account while he'd been in Iraq with Cam, and she'd deliberately kept the balance on that account low since then so he couldn't withdraw more than a couple thousand dollars without her knowledge or permission. She told him the money was still _theirs_ and if he needed or wanted it for some purpose other than gambling, she'd make it available to him. She wasn't trying to punish him. But, she didn't trust his addiction and thought it best to remove temptation. Booth understood. Even agreed with her. It was the broken trust that was harder to swallow and something he acknowledged would still take some more time before it was healthy and whole again.

Looking across the open expanse of their living space, he could see her now, sitting on the couch, breastfeeding their always hungry four-and-a-half month old son while Christine sat at her feet playing with her dolls. She looked so natural there . . . a natural Madonna, their son tucked snuggly to her chest while she patiently answered questions and offered comments to Christine.

His family. He loved them all more than words could say, but the beautiful woman at the center was his touchstone. He thanked God every day for letting her be in his life and for her ability to forgive and give him another chance.

He took one gamble too many a few months earlier when he put their future at risk and he was determined to ensure it never happened again. One day at a time.

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 **A/N:** _This is obviously the end of this little story folks. Time for me to focus on some others I've left hanging too long. Thanks for all the support you provided along the way with reviews, favorites, and follows. I appreciated it all. Any final comments are welcome._


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